Karl Dreyer was waiting for a red light near the Jade Dragon when the restaurant's door opened and a man stepped out. Looking carefully up and down the street the man started toward the street corner. Dreyer thought the man looked familiar and gasped as sudden recognition flooded him. It was Devlin, the CIA's senior L.A. agent. Curious to see if he had met with another agent, Dreyer pulled over to the curb where he could observe the restaurant's door. Five minutes later the door opened and another man stepped through. Dreyer felt like a sledgehammer had hit him. It was Jack Bristow. "So," he thought, "it's a father and daughter act." He briefly considered contacting Sloane, but he was sure Sloane wouldn't believe him. In fact, it could just be a coincidence. Maybe both men just happened to like the same restaurant, but he doubted it. He knew that he should have Bristow followed and build a case, but he was angry that Sloane wasn't listening to him. Pulling a gun from under his seat, he jumped out of the car. Sneaking up behind Bristow, he managed to stun Bristow with a blow to the head then with the gun jammed into Bristow's ribs he pushed him into a nearby alley. "So you're helping your daughter. I should have suspected that it was a family affair."
Jack shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I saw Devlin leave that restaurant."
"Who? Is that name supposed to mean something to me?" Jack queried.
"Don't play games with me. I am sure that you're aware that Devlin is the CIA's top man here," Dreyer snarled as he jammed the gun up under Jack's chin.
"So, I suppose you've already contacted Sloane," Jack said.
"No, he wouldn't believe me about his precious Sydney. So I'm sure he won't believe me about you either, but if I have a confession in hand…."
"Look, I'll tell you what you want to know, if you'll leave Sydney out of this," said Jack.
Grinning nastily, Dreyer lowered his gun and said, "I'll think about it." As his grip on Jack relaxed, Jack smashed his forehead into Dreyer's and grabbed for the gun. During the ensuing scuffle, the gun went off. Jack slumped to the ground, gasping at the burning pain in his shoulder. Lying on the ground, Jack used his body for cover as he drew his own gun. Dreyer cautiously approached Jack's prone form and prodded him with a foot. Jack didn't react. Confident that Bristow was no danger, Dreyer kicked him over onto his back. As he rolled over Jack shot Dreyer. His aim was perfect. Dreyer sank to his knees, hands clasped over his chest staring at the blood that leaked through his fingers. He then collapsed onto the street. Gathering his strength, Jack struggled to his feet. Fighting off a dizzying wave of pain, he cautiously prodded the prone form looking for any sign of life. Dreyer was dead. Grabbed Dreyer, he dragged him to the dumpster. After leaning Dreyer against the dumpster, he collapsed against it, waiting for the blackness around the edges of his vision to recede. In a few moments, he felt stronger and slowly shuffled back toward the alley's mouth where he pulled out his cell phone and called Sydney.
